Thicker Than Water
by ChloeRumple
Summary: House's daughter, Gemma, a brilliant young aspiring doctor, leaves living with her mother to work with her father and his team. As she does so, she finds herself building a relationship with her father, facing the challenges of being a doctor, and falling deeply for her father's best friend, Dr. James Wilson.
1. Chapter 1-Blue Eyes

_A story about House's twenty-four year old daughter, Gemma, who begins working in the hospital alongside House and his team. After a rocky relationship with her mother, Gemma moves back to New Jersey to be with her father, who she always got along better with. Gemma is much like him, snarky, witty, and intelligent, but also balances out House's cooler demeanour with a kinder outlook towards most people. She is more approachable than House, but can be just as defiant and stubborn. Gemma doesn't always get along with House's team, Cuddy, or authority figures at the hospital, but has a strong relationship with Dr. Wilson, which quickly takes, to House's dismay, a romantic turn._

_Takes place in approx. season one-two. _

**_Note: I know nothing about medical issues, diseases, hospitals, etc, so please understand that when reading, things will likely be incorrect. The main goal of the story is House's relationship with her daughter and her relationship with Wilson. Thanks!**_

Chapter One- Blue Eyes

"You really shouldn't be taking any more of those," I said, looking over at the man next to me with a sideways glance.

"But they're so yummy!" he returned, his voice high and snarky.

I rolled my eyes. My time here would be annoying, at best.

At my side stood of the best, the most accomplished, committed, one of the most intelligent, ruthlessly determined doctors in the modern world. I would say he was well respected as well, but that was a bit of a lie, considering most people hated him, but they knew he was a good doctor.

Dr. Gregory House was a tall man, thin, with mostly grey hair and stubble on his checks, chin, and neck to match. He wore jeans every day, with a jacket overtop a button down shit, wrinkled and undone at the very top.

In his hand, Dr. House popped the lid of an orange plastic pill bottle, put a pill into his mouth and dry swallowed. He started off again down the hall of the hospital.

Despite the fact that he walked with a cane, I still had to walk quicker than my usual pace to keep up.

"Are you sure I'm allowed here?" I asked him when I caught up to his shoulder, where my head hovered. I pushed my wavy, coppery-chocolate colored hair behind my ear.

He snorted. "Unless Cuddy's paying you, she doesn't have a say."

"It's her hospital."

"So?" he asked, but then said, more seriously, his voice more level, deeper, "Just keep your nose down, and stick with me. Nobody'll even notice you."

I tilted my head to the side. "You normally walk around with girls less than half your age?"

"Actually, yes." He stopped at a glass room, gave me a narrow eyed look that said 'don't mess this up, Gem', then a small, cheeky smile with wider eyes, and he pushed open the door to a carpeted room with wide windows, a table in the middle, a dry erase board, and three young doctors in white coats sitting at the table in the middle. They all looked up when their boss walked in.

Then their eyes shifted right to me.

The girl of the bunch, a pretty, round faced brunette with pink cheeks, locked eyes with me, then seemed to shake herself and say, "The patient hasn't been responding to antibiotics. I think we were wrong."

"No." The black guy with close cut hair and a goatee spoke up. "Chase was wrong."

The last guy, a pretty-boy blonde, blinked and widened his eyes, his mouth opened. "I never said-" He had an Australian accent.

"That's enough." House leaned against the window, leaving me standing somewhat awkwardly near the door.

When he said nothing more, just stared off at a place about three feet to the right of my head, the blonde guy asked, "Who's your friend?"

"Hmph?"

"Your friend," he repeated, slower.

"Oh, how rude of me." House detached himself from the wall and limped to the sink. "Gemma, Foreman, Cameron, Chase." He wagged his chin towards me. "That's Gemma."

"Hi." I gave a small, awkward wave.

"Are you…" The blonde, who I assumed was Chase, waved his hands, looking for a second half of the sentence.

"She's going to be hanging around here a bit," House supplied.

"So you're a student?" the black guy asked.

"No." I shook my head. "Not a student."

The girl was still staring at me. She then stood and held out a small hand. "Allison Cameron," she said, her eyes looking at me so hard, I was waiting for her to seize up or something.

"You can't just have random people shadow you," the black guy, Foreman, he must have been, said, as I shook Cameron's little warm hand.

"I'm not random," I snapped. I wasn't that guy's biggest fan.

"Then who are you?" he retorted.

"Easy Foreman," Cameron said, turning away from me. "Isn't it obvious?"

"What?" he snapped at her.

Cameron held out a flat palmed hand to where I still stood. "Her eyes."

"I'm totally lost." Chase leaned on the table, his chin in his hand.

House was smirking.

"You didn't tell them?" I questioned him, getting annoyed.

"Tell who what?" he chuckled.

Frustrated, I crossed my arms. "Dad!"

"Dad?!" Both Foreman and Chase had eyes as wide as tea saucers.

My dad nodded and leaned on his cane. "This is my daughter, Gemma House." His blue eyes met my matching ones.


	2. Chapter 2-Vials

Chapter Two- Vials

"Differential diagnosis!" my dad hollered, going to the white board that was set up. "You," he looked right at Chase, "were wrong."

Chase said nothing.

Seeing that this would be something important, something it seemed that Dad did often, I took a seat in one of the white chairs at the table and paid close attention.

"I say we do a brain scan," Foreman said, sticking his chest out. "Could be neurological."

"He's a neurologist," dad told me.

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously he thinks it's a brain thing."

"A brain thing?" Foreman questioned me.

"You're the one that suggested it was _neurological_."

Dad sighed. "Play nice, children."

"I think," Cameron said, "it could be Lupus."

I couldn't help it, I snorted into my hands.

"What?" She turned her head and looked right at me.

"It's never Lupus," I answered.

Dad smiled. "That's my girl." He rested his cane against the whiteboard and wrote a few symptoms on the shiny surface, studied it and then said. "I want Gemma to take blood, then you guys run some tests. Check for everything. Then get a CT scan."

"But Gemma can't take blood," Cameron protested.

Dad grabbed his cane from the whiteboard and leaned on it. "Physically, yes, she can."

"I'm in med school," I explained, standing up. "I think I can handle taking some blood."

The others stood after me. They started for the door and I went to follow but I was called back.

"Gemma."

I turned to my dad. "Yeah?"

"Wear this. It'll keep Cuddy off my ass until I can talk her out of losing it over the fact that you're here." He pulled a white lab coat from a cupboard and tossed it to me. I caught it clumsily in my hands.

"You don't wear one." I unfolded it and slipped the wrinkled sleeves on over my blue button down shirt.

"And don't have to either, when you can spell Acute Disseminated Encephalomyelitis. I'm going to talk to Cuddy about your position here. Until I secure that, just keep your head down and behave. Play nice."

I snorted. "Way to lead by example."

"Go take blood."

Turning on the heel of my Converse, I left the room and rushed to catch up with Chase, Foreman, and Cameron.

"So," Cameron asked, not missing a beat, "I'll just ask what's on all our mind's-what's it like having House for a dad?"

I looked sideways at her as we made our way down the blue and teal hallway. "What's it like having your dad for a dad?"

"Come on," Chase interjected. "You must know what he's like, at least when he's here. Sometimes he's a total nightmare. Was he strict? Is he warm and cuddly or did he belt you if you got any less than straight A's in school?"

"He's no different than anyone else's dad." The sleeves of my lab coat slipped down past my hands. I could tell, it was dad's coat. Probably never worn.

"Everyone's father is different," Foreman added simply.

We stopped outside a glass door to the room of the patient, I assumed.

I shrugged my shoulders. "He expected a lot, but he cared a lot. This our patient?" I headed through the sliding door, and as I did, I heard 'she doesn't want to talk about it'. It was Cameron who said it.

Inside the room with large windows looking out over tree tops, and blue walls bordering a white bed, inside which lay a young woman, maybe my age, maybe older by a few years, or even younger. She had blonde hair and pasty skin. Her eyes were red rimmed. When I walked through the doors with Dad's team behind me, she asked "Are you Dr. House?"

I tried not to smirk. "Yes, I am. We're going to take blood to run some tests."

"Oh okay."

Dr. Cameron stepped forward and looked at me straight on.

"I got this," I said to her questioning eyes. "I just need-"

"Go to go, _Doctor_." Chase pulled a small cart with a needle, vials for blood, and an elastic band. He then pushed a stool to the side of the bed.

Allowing my confidence to well up, I took a seat and tied the patient's arm off. I prodded her veins, the little green bumps sticking up on her flesh, and then picked up the needle. I dipped the point into the green under the skin and popped a vial on the end, sucking the blood from her veins. I took eight vials with Foreman, Chase, and Cameron all watching me.

"Alright." I pulled the needle from the girl's arm. She had been looking at me lethargically the entire time. "Time to run tests."

We took the blood to the lab where it could be tested and ran the samples, checking for anything we think of. No one trusted my tests, especially Foreman, so he ran them again.

When I ran one test, a specific one that checked the blood for signs of cancer, I blinked into the microscope that I was looking into and then looked again. I ran the test again. Same results. "Uh, guys?"

Cameron and Chase looked up. Foreman ignored me.

"I think it's cancer," I told them.

"Let me see."

I pushed back my chair and allowed Chase to check the microscope. He pushed his eyes against it and then pulled away and sighed. "She's right."

"How can she be right?" Foreman bellowed. "She's not a doctor."

"She's a med school student," Cameron offered.

Chase stood up. "Look at it then." He gestured to the microscope. "I just checked it, and she's right. I'm paging Wilson."

With a sigh, Foreman left through the glass doors with a huff, while Chase pulled out his pager to contact who I assumed was Dr. James Wilson, my dad's only friend, head of the Oncology department here.

I had never met Dr. Wilson, but I was about to.


	3. Chapter 3-Not Cancer

Chapter Three- Not Cancer

Back in my dad's office, Chase had explained the results of the tests and said he already told Dr. Wilson, who was going to the patient right away. Chase sat with Cameron and me at the table while my dad stood against the white board.

"Cancer makes sense," he said to no one in particular, his eyes wandering off, his voice softer than normal when talking to Foreman, Chase, and Cameron, but then it changed and went back to his normal bark when he asked, "Where's Foreman?"

"I don't know," Chase answered. "He left the lab."

"He left because he doesn't think I should be running tests and stuff," I told my dad.

"Foreman is an idiot." Dad popped another Vicodin. "You're clearly a doctor, you're wearing a lab coat."

I rolled my eyes.

"He is right," Chase said. "If Cuddy finds out-"

"Then maybe she'll spank me," Dad snorted.

"Eww." I looked away from my dad, who was smirking, completely pleased with himself, to the other side of the glass, where I saw a man walking. He wore a lab coat, was tall, average build, with square shoulders and chocolate brown hair. He then pulled the door open to the room, his warm brown eyes on my dad and said to him in an even, easy voice that was like smooth whiskey, "I don't think it's cancer."

I starred up at him as he was looking at my dad. Although I wasn't entirely sure what I was expecting, I knew it wasn't the man that stood before me, with a boyish face and haircut, clean dress shoes and pens in his pocket. I always thought my dad's best-only friend would be…different. Not wearing a shirt and tie.

"You don't?" Cameron asked him, peering up at him with her big, round eyes.

He met them. "No, I don't."

"Well," Dad said, "Gemma's the one who thought that. And since she's not an actual doctor, we'll blame her. She's too dumb to know the difference."

Cameron spoke up, "But Chase checked it too, we all thought it fit," but wasn't really listening.

When my dad had said my name, Dr. Wilson turned from where his eyes were on Cameron and firmly, decidedly, settled on me. It was as if I was a piece of jewelry behind glass, something to look at without getting to close, to stick your nose out at and gawk.

"Y-you're Gemma?" he asked, pointing right at me.

I nodded.

"House, this is your daughter?" He didn't take his eyes from me and I felt the urge to squirm around, or at least look away. His gaze was pinning me like a bug with needles in its wings.

"Still not sure," Dad answered. "She showed up on my doorstep and claimed I was. We're waiting for the DNA tests before I let her in on my savings." Then he stepped forward, meeting Dr. Wilson at the doorway. "Take Gemma for lunch. I need a babysitter." He started out the door and then turned back to the room. "Let's go," he said to Chase and Cameron. Chase sighed, but got up and followed my dad with Cameron on his heels.

Leaving me alone with Dr. Wilson. My stomach did a small flip. I didn't want to be left alone with anyone, let alone James Wilson, head of the Oncology department. This guy was a big deal, and I had to admit, I found him rather handsome.

Unsure of what to do, I stood, so that at least I was level with him. But then I realize that I was still wearing Dad's lab coat and the sleeves fell past my hands, making me appear incredibly childlike. Trying to look as relaxed and casual as possible, I slipped the coat off and hung it over the back of the chair.

"So you're Dr. Wilson, my dad's friend," I said, trying to start some sort of conversation that wasn't awkward.

"Yes…well, if you consider it a friendship." He chuckled lightly and ran a hand through his hair. "But yes, I've known him for a long time. But you and I have never met." He held out a hand.

I reached forward and slipped my own hand into his warm palm. He gripped it gently.

"How did you know who I was then?" I asked as he let go of my hand. "It's not like my dad would have pictures hanging up."

"No, he doesn't." Dr. Wilson put his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. "He has one picture in his wallet of you. Your mom sent him one from your Michigan graduation."

"That surprises me."

"That he has the picture?"

"No, that my mom sent him a picture."

A smile crept across his lips. "How about that lunch now?"

"Oh. No. No, that's okay. Dad was joking. I can feed myself."

"No, it's fine. I was going to get something anyways." When I didn't respond, he said, "Really, I insist."

I sighed and let my shoulder's relax. "Alright."

He stepped out of the doorway and gestured for me to accompany him. I did.


	4. Chapter 4-Lunch with James

Chapter Four-Lunch With James

We went to the cafeteria on the first floor of the hospital. It was a large room with bright paint colors and a counter at one wall. I ordered the soup of the day-tomato bisque. Dr. Wilson got a steak sandwich paid for everything. We sat at a table near the windows.

"So," he began, "you should be starting med school soon, right?"

"Yes, I just finished at Michigan."

"How'd you like it there?" He unwrapped his sandwich and sprinkled the inside with some salt and pepper.

"I liked it. Loved it actually."

"I've heard good things."

"Where did you go?" I stirred my soup, watching the steam float off it between us.

"I did my undergrad at McGill, then I went to Columbia and then Pennsylvania."

"Do you like it here?"

"I do. I've been working here long enough." He smiled down at his food. "Are you staying here?" He brought those Golden Retriever eyes up to mine.

"I want to…" I looked down at my soup, allowing my voice to drop off and then took a spoonful to avoid the rest. But there was something there, something about the way Dr. Wilson talked and looked at me that made me feel very comfortable and at ease.

"But…?"

I swallowed my soup. "My mom wants me to stay with her. I want to come here because I want to get away from her."

"What does your dad think?"

"That there's no one better on the planet to study under than him."

"He wants you to work with him?"

"Yes. Or else I wouldn't be here."

Dr. Wilson chuckled. "Has he talked to Cuddy?" He peered at me from under his dark eyelashes.

"Not yet."

"She shouldn't be much a problem. Even though her and House-your dad-don't get along, she respects him as a doctor."

"They went to Michigan together, right?"

"They did. How well they knew each other, I'm not sure."

"I've heard things."

Again, he chuckled. "Be careful of what you hear. A lot of people here even, like to assume there's something going on and that's why she keeps your dad around. She keeps him here because he's a good doctor, not because there's any of that going on." Then he changed to subject. "You like him though, don't you? I mean, you're choosing here against what your mother thinks. You could go to any hospital and work with a number of great doctors."

"I could. But I'd like to work with him. As much as everyone hates him, I don't."

"I don't hate him either. But I won't say he's overly pleasant. A friendship, any type of relationship, is difficult to have with him."

"I thought you'd be different," I admitted.

"Really? How?" He smiled at me again and I could see why if you were dying, he'd be good to have at your bedside. He was everything Dad wasn't, pleasant, caring, kind. He listened, he made you feel like you could never say or do anything wrong. I felt comfortable with him, and we'd met less than a half hour ago.

"Your Dad's only friend. I thought you'd be more…like him."

"Opposites attract, I guess." He shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I never want to kill him, but he's my friend."

"It might sound weird, but I always got along better with him than with my mom."

"Really?"

"My mom never really…I don't know, I just felt that I knew Dad cared. I knew that he wasn't phoney or anything like that. I sometimes wonder if my mom actually does care. She's says that I'm like him in some ways and how much she wishes I wasn't. How can I help that?"

"You can't. She loved your dad a lot. I'm sure it's not easy for her right now."

"She made her choices. It can't be that hard, she's married again."

Dr. Wilson looked down. "She invited me to the wedding."

"Seriously? But you're-"

"I didn't go. I didn't think it was right."

"I think it's nice my dad has someone like you. He needs that."

"He does, but he also needs you. He lost more than his marriage five years ago."

"Well, unless my mom drags me back, which I don't think she can, she's not strong enough, I plan on staying here, with him."

Dr. Wilson smiled. "Good." Then something around his hips started to beep. He pulled a pager from his pocket, looked it, furrowed his brow and then sighed. "I got to go. I have a patient." He stood and started to gather the garbage from his food.

"I got it." I stood and reached for the tray. "You bought it, I can clean it up."

"Aright, thanks." He smiled at me. "I'll see you around."

"Yes." I returned his warm expression.

He started off away from me on his black polished shoes, but then I remembered what I forgot to say.

"Dr. Wilson?" I called.

"Yeah?" He looked over his shoulder and then turned around. His head tilted to the side slightly.

"Thank you for lunch. It was great to meet you."

He smiled bashfully at the ground, then brought his head back up, met my eyes and said. "You're welcome. I enjoyed it." He went to turn, but before he could move around ninety degrees, he stopped, turned back and said, "Oh, and please, call me James."


	5. Chapter 5-Teamwork

Chapter Five-Teamwork

Dr. Lisa Cuddy was the dean of medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She ran the entire operation with skill, class, and strict rules which were not to be broken. She was tough, smart, very pretty, and downright pissed at my dad, which I had realized, was a usual occurrence.

He and I were in her large office. She had a large desk against a backdrop of green trees behind a large half circle bunch of windows, sofas in the middle around a glass coffee table, bookshelves, lamps, all surrounded by pine walls and a high ceiling.

Cuddy sat behind her desk, half of her long, dark hair pulled back from her face. She wore a pale pink skirt, matching jacket, and low cut blouse. She sat behind her desk, hands folded in front of her, eyes narrowed at my dad, who stood in the middle of the room.

"You can't just bring whoever you want in here and expect me to let them work here," Cuddy told Dad firmly. "I can't let a med student on your team just because she's your daughter."

"I need someone else," Dad said. "You told me to look into taking on a potential student. This," he pointed to where I sat on one of the plush couches, "is the student I want."

"Because she's your daughter!" Cuddy splayed her hands before her.

"Well…yeah." Dad leaned on his cane. I recognised this stance of his. It was him unmoving, unwilling to leave with anything less than exactly what he wanted. I'd seen it with my mother, and with me.

"I can't allow this." She looked at me. "I'm sorry."

I stood and moved to Dad's side. "I've already been accepted in the program," I argued. "I graduated from Michigan as one of the top of my class."

"Not _the_ top," Dad muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "My resume is very impressive and I was accepted in the co-op program to work under another doctor."

"Whoever approved that must have been blind," Cuddy said blatantly. "One doctor House here his enough. I'll call New Jersey General and have them take you."

"Can't do that." Dad stepped forward. "She's already been approved here and I am in the process of writing up my report to allow her on my team. That's how it works. You can't break the rules because you don't like someone, that wouldn't be professional." A small smile crossed his lips. He was winning.

"I'll do my job," I promised, walking towards her desk. "I won't cause problems. I'll be an asset to your hospital."

The expression on Cuddy's face went from robust powerfulness and command, to a look of tired defeat. "Fine. But I will not hesitate to dismiss you should anything happen. That's a promise." She stood and shuffled a pile of files. "And help your father with clinic hours. He needs it."

I was beaming on the inside, but I tried not to show it. "Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"Just don't make me regret not vetoing the rules."

Dad grinned and then turned to leave, I followed him. When we left the door of her office and stood out in the main lobby of the hospital, Dad held up his hand that wasn't holding his cane. I lifted mine and gave it a light slap of a high five.

I was here. I was working with my dad in one of the best hospitals in the country, out of the house my mom kept me captive in, and on my way to becoming the great doctor my dad was.

Everything was finally falling into place.


	6. Chapter 6-Home

Chapter Six- Home

My dad lived in a row house in an older part of the inner city. Before my parents had divorced, we lived in a large home in the suburbs. My mom got that. This was going to be a bit of a change, but I didn't feel like I'd need to hide away from my dad as I had to when living with my mother.

My room was on the second floor. Dad could climb the stairs, but preferred not to, so I got the entire floor to myself. He had movers bring in a bedroom furniture set for me, a bed and matching desk and dresser. He had a maid come once a week while he was at work, so everything was clean.

I had shown up the day before, on his doorstep, after several phone calls back and forth, and with a big suitcase in hand. Everything I had brought wasn't unpacked yet and I still wanted to get more from my mother's house.

But this place felt more home-like than the house I had lived in since I was a small child. That place had gone sour like bad milk. Here, things were fresh, clean. There was more room for me in this skinny row house than in the monstrosity I had left behind for Mom and Mark.

From the fridge, I grabbed the jug of milk and poured myself a glass. I stood at the counter in my pajamas, my face clean of makeup, my hair braided out of my face.

Dad limped into the kitchen, still in his jeans and band t-shirt.

"Make a list of what groceries you need," he said. "We can go get a few things soon."

"Mom never let me make requests, she said I ate too much junk."

"She's probably right." Dad took the milk from me and poured himself a glass. "Normally I don't eat here much. When there's case, we'll be at the hospital a lot."

I nodded. I leaned against the counter and bit down on my lower lip. Then I asked, "How are you and Dr. Wilson such good friends?"

Dad looked at me and tipped his chin up. "Because Wilson won't leave me alone."

"I don't know that I believe that's the entire reason."

"Good for you." Dad turned to walk away and I thought for a second that he was going to go to bed and leave me with only that, but like he often did, he turned back towards me and said, "Wilson and I just work. It's just the way it has been. He's a good doctor, a reliable guy, and he's been one of the few people who actually stands by me. That's what a friend is He's not perfect, but he passes the test."

"I like him. I can see how he'd be a good friend." I knew exactly why he and my dad got along so well.

"That's nice. Now get some sleep." He started away and then called to me over his shoulder. "Good night, Gemma."

I smiled softly. "Good night, Gem." Then I put my glass in the sink and headed up the stairs.

It was easy to understand, based on what I discovered about James Wilson, why he and Dad were such good friends.

My father was someone who needed people in his life because he didn't really have any. He was needy, but yet he was difficult for most to get along with. He would push people until their breaking point-if they had one. The strong people, or those who truly cared, or had no choice, would stay with him.

Dr. Wilson, or James, I should say, was a cancer doctor. Most of his patients died. But I knew he wasn't as simple as he seemed on the outside. If anything, I was wondering, if James was more complex than my dad actually was. He really intrigued me, but so did Cuddy, and the rest of my dad's team, and really anyone who had to put up with him. But James did so by choice…

I climbed up the stairs to my very floor. The bathroom was small, with an old claw foot tub and shower and cracked sink. I brushed my teeth there and then went to my room where I saw my phone light up on the dresser where it sat charging. I checked the call history. It had been my mom. She didn't leave a voicemail. I put my phone back down on the dresser and then climbed between the blankets of my bed.

I was staying here. I wasn't going back, not to be with her. This was where I belonged. With my dad.


	7. Chapter 7-Curing Cancer

_Hello everyone! Thanks for reading, I am so happy with all your feedback and hope everyone continues with the amazing reviews they've been writing for me._

_I apologize for the slower updates lately. It's finals right now which means I don't have as much time as I'd like to for writing. I will have more updates coming quicker during the holiday break. It drives me crazy not having enough time for this!_

_Hope you all continue to enjoy! I'm trying to start picking things up a bit within the story, please let me know what you guys think!_

Chapter Seven-Curing Cancer

It took me, to my dad's great dismay, over an hour to get ready in the morning. I put on jeans, a button down shirt and boots, styled my hair, did my makeup, and had what cereal Dad was hoarding from months ago in the cupboard.

"Our patient should be fine today," he said as we walked in the front doors of the hospital. "Didn't get any whiney phone calls or pages from my team."

"So basically, as you do is save one patient every week or so and that's it?"

"Gemma! We're dealing with people's lives here," he sneered. "Don't be so insensitive."

I rolled my eyes.

"Plus, I do much more than just that. Clinic hours. Here." He grabbed a file from a stack on the front desk and handed it to me. "Probably a cold. Give them some cough syrup and you'll be good." He started walking away.

"Wait, you're leaving me alone with these people?"

"I have things to do." He kept walking.

"Dad!"

Still walking.

"Urgh!" I slapped the file against the desk, causing the nurses behind it to look up at me. I ignored them and turned in a circle, trying to find someone I knew to help me with clinic duty or at least get me out of this. Who I found, was Dr. Wilson.

"He left you here?" He was studying me with his head tilted slightly to the side, wearing a brown suit that made his eyes look even more warm and chocolaty, with a sky blue shirt underneath and striped tie. In his hand was a brief case. He must have just walked into the hospital.

"Dr. Wilson!" I smiled at him, relieved. "Yeah, he just walked away telling me to do clinic duty."

He smiled back. "Please, it's James. You'll learn nothing by passing out Advil to people with a cold or pulling toys out of kids' noses." He gestured to the elevators with his free hand. "Come with me. You might learn something."

"But the clinic…"

"Cuddy will be after your dad in about five minutes, don't worry." He smiled again and I fell in step with him towards the elevators. "I'll try and keep the day cheery, but there's only so much you can do when dealing with cancer patients."

"How do you do it?" I asked as we walked into the elevator together. There was no one going up with us, the two nurses inside climbed out when the doors opened. "Deal with more than half of your patients dying, I mean." I pressed myself exactly right in the middle of where James stood and the wall of the elevator.

"That's what happens with cancer." He reached over and pushed the button for the fourth floor of the hospital. "People die, they always are going to die. The least I can do is make it better while they die, or give them a few more years." He looked down at me out of the sides of his eyes. "And sometimes they do make it and that's when it all becomes worth it."

"I don't know if I could handle that."

"You don't have to come with me."

"No, I want to."

The elevator doors opened and James held out a hand for me to step put first. I crossed the threshold from the elevator to the hall and turned to see him following me.

"What I would want to do is fix what killing everyone in the first place. Get to the root, end it. I just don't know that I could accept so many people dying."

"Well that's everyone involved with cancer. You cure cancer, you'll become the greatest doctor in history." He turned the corner and then stopped, turning in the hall right before the wooden door that read 'Doctor James Wilson, Oncologist'. "You think I'm weak because I accept it."

He wasn't accusing. In fact it was more of a question. His brown eyes were big as ever, studying my face in a way that made me feel itchy under my collar. It was like being starred down by a begging dog. Only there was no reason not to give James what he wanted, which was only information.

I told him, "That's not what I think."

"No?" He rubbed at his mouth and then waved his hand and let it slap against his thigh. "Sorry. I'm just so used to your father and how…antagonistic he can be." He turned, pulled a key from the pocket of his jacket and unlocked his office door.

I chuckled lightly and gave a small snort through my nose. "No. I didn't mean that way. The complete opposite."

With a small smile, James opened the door and once again, had me walk through it first.

His office was a large room with carpet floors and green walls. There was a large wooden desk with a bookshelf behind it filled with books and had a degree in the middle. Posters of old movies, one of the movie _Vertigo_, hung on either side of the shelf. There was also a couch along the window and a glass door leading to a balcony.

"What do you mean by 'the opposite'?"

"Hmm?" I turned from where I was looking at the degrees on the wall by the door and a picture of someone in a black robe holding the hand of a slimmer faced, slightly longer haired young man that was Dr. Wilson.

He took off his jacket exposing the way his shirt pulled gently across his shoulders as he moved and placed his briefcase on his desk. "The opposite. You said-"

"Oh yeah." I walked over and stood before the polished desk front. "What I mean is that it's a hell of a lot easier to not accept something, not to not care, but not accept. Turn a blind eye. I could say that I hate cancer and want to stop it and still do nothing. But when you move past that almighty stage of denial and ignorance, and accept what's going on, you become productive."

"You're saying it's nobler to hold the hand of the dying than try and stop the dead?"

"In a way. Those who try and stop what's right in front of them miss what's actually happening. Does it really matter to the little girl who has a month left if someone cures cancer in a year?"

"The person who cures can prevent that from happening."

"Yes, but how likely is that?"

James shrugged. "At this point?" He crossed his arms. "But we'll get nowhere if no one tries."

"I know. I just think that you're not weak and that you are important." I looked down at the top of his desk and a canister of pens and pencils. "To a lot of people."

When I looked up, the head of the Oncology department was looking back at me, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, with a very small smile on his lips.

"Well, you can see for yourself what matters. Come on, we have some biopsies to do."


	8. Chapter 8-Shining

Chapter Eight-Shining

I donned a lab coat and followed James around for the entire morning. First, we biopsied a liver on an old alcoholic, then checked in on a woman going through chemo. After that, I sat in his office, off to the side on the couch, while a middle aged woman sat in a chair before his desk. James folded his hands on the desktop and gave her a small, gentle smile.

"The results from all our tests confirm it. I triple checked everything. Libby, you're cancer free."

The woman in the chair with short, greying hair looked up and met James' eyes from where she was sitting with her head bowed. She brought it up and her eyes got larger. "I…I really don't have it anymore?"

"No." His smile grew. "No sign of it. You're healthy as could be right now. We will have to continue to monitor your health, regular exams and such, but you're in the clear. I can't see it coming back, but we always have to be cautious."

There was a light that came from behind her face, in her eyes, that lit up everything. Her eyes got larger again, and then her mouth broke into a smile and she covered it with her hands.

As I watched tears of joy roll down from her squinted eyes in large round pearls, I realized, by the look on his face and the light shining in _his_ eyes, why he did what he did. I felt it too. For every so many who died and could not be helped, there was someone like this woman. And that was just enough for him.

"How many do you get to tell that to?" I asked, pointing at the door that the patient had just left through. I stood up and walked across the carpet to where James stood from he was still sitting behind his desk. He shrugged out of his lab coat and started to roll his sleeves up past his forearms.

"Not enough." He sighed. "But that's my third one this week." A smiled touched the corners of his lips.

"Good week?"

"Very. Lunch?"

"Only," I said with a grin, "if you let me buy this time."

James walked around his desk and placed a hand on my shoulder blade as he reached and grabbed the knob on the door of his office. As always, he gestured for me to go through the door first, but this time with his hand placed right on my shoulder blade, where my bra strap slid down my back.

I walked out into the hall with James on my heels. He stopped to lock his office door and then we headed side by side down the hall, towards the elevators, until Foreman stopped us.

"Gemma, what are you doing?" he demanded. His hands flew out to his sides. "We've been looking for you for hours!"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Who's we? You and your gang?"

Beside me, James snickered and then covered his mouth with his hand. He cleared his throat audibly and then dropped his hands to his sides, not meeting Foreman's eyes.

"Me, Chase, Cameron, and your father." Foreman looked to James and gave him a narrowed-eyed look.

"Oh please. You have people to save. You all looked for me?"

"Yeah, we did. You were supposed to be in the clinic. Where your dad left you."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot I had legs that work and I could walk away from where Daddy dropped me off," I said sarcastically, and then, my irritation building, I added, coolly, "And the fact that I'm old enough to go where I want."

Foreman opened his mouth to speak, but James interjected. "She was with me," he said. "I asked her for my help. I thought helping me, shadowing me, would be much better than handing out Advil Cold and Sinus."

"That's not your call," Foreman bit back, taking a step forward towards James. "You can't just pluck up our int-"

"_Your_ intern?" James gasped. "She's not yours. She's House's."

"She's not yours either."

"So fight me for her."

"I have House on my side."

"Seriously?" James snorted. "She's a human, not a dog." He turned to me. "I'll take responsibility. I have authority here. More than Foreman."

I sighed and turned to him. "Thanks, but I got it." I smiled. "We'll do lunch again next time? I should go find my dad."

He smiled back at me. "Sure. And I'll let you buy next time."

"Yeah." I smiled a bigger smile and then turned to Foreman, my tone changing from that of light, airy, sweet, to downright bitchy. "Where's my dad?" I asked Foreman, crossing my arms.

He widened his eyes at me, but didn't reprimand for my snarky attitude. "In his office."

"Yeah, he was looking so hard for me." I rolled my eyes and started down the hall, catching a glimpse of James as I turned away from him, heading down the hall.

The way he was looking at me, with his mouth turned just slightly into a smile, his eyes doing the same thing they had earlier in his office.

He was looking at me in that same shining way that he had been looking at the woman who he told was cancer free.


	9. Chapter 9-What the Hell

Chapter Nine-What the Hell

"What the hell, Dad?" I stormed into his office, throwing the glass door out of my way, to see my dad sitting with his feet on his desk, twirling his cane between his fingers.

"That's no way to talk to your father." He pulled his running shoes off the desk and straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah, and having the black mafia hunt me down is super nice and caring."

"Why were you with Wilson?" His voice turned more serious, but still light. He wanted to know, really wanted to know. And he knew how to get information from me. Grow harsh, demanding, mother-like, and try to force it out me, only made me clam up.

"Why?" I wanted to know why he wanted to know, why he didn't want me around James.

"You're supposed to be with me, where I tell you to be."

I snorted. "You left me in the clinic. You knew I wasn't going to stay there."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd spend quality time with Wilson. I expected you to come back here and bitch at me."

"So? James saw me and asked if-"

"J-James? So it's James now, but not yet Jimmy." Dad rubbed his stubbled chin.

"What are you saying?" I waved my hands in front of me. "That because he asked me to stop calling him 'Dr. Wilson'," I put on a phony deeper voice for the 'Dr. Wilson', hoping to convey how ridiculous it was for me to call him something so formal, "means something to you?"

Dad gave me a narrow-eyed grin.

"Da-ad." I rolled my eyes.

"Gemm-maa," he drawled in mocking. He leaned on his cane and his voice changed as he stood. He was being serious now. He was using his serious voice. "Wilson's a great guy."

"So you want me to stay away from him because unlike so many people in this world, he's _nice_?"

"Yes, you're exactly right."

"I don't-"

"I've known Wilson for years. He's nice, that's his problem. He'll do exactly what he's doing with you. Take you under his wing, be nice, and then…" Dad sighed.

"And then what?"

"That's his pattern. He's on wife number three because of it. You're like me, we're friends, he could very likely be attracted to you and then you're the other woman in the affair."

"What the hell?" I rubbed my temples. "I'm young enough to be his daughter, I'm your daughter. There's not going to be anything there, at least not acted upon, that's…" I wanted to say gross, disgusting, totally wrong, but for some reason, I just couldn't.

"He's not as old as me."

"Dinosaurs aren't as old as you."

"But that line is."

I rolled my eyes again. "If you promise not to leave me at the clinic again, I won't wander off with Ja…_Wilson_."

"It's not you I'm worried about." He started towards the door.

"You think Wilson…" I shook my head.

"I don't think he'll do anything," Dad stated. "I think he could get googly eyed, and that's just down right wrong. Try watching your best friend wanting to smooze your kid." He stuck his tongue out and made a face.

"You want to keep me away from him so you don't have to watch me and him…do anything. Not because you actually care. I'm not an idiot."

"Never said you were. Come on, we have an MRI to do. If the guy's brain blows up inside, I want to see it happen in real life." Dad limped out the door and I followed behind him, my brain trying to wrap itself around everything he had said.

He wanted me and James to stay away from each other, because he didn't want to see anything between us any more than colleagues, and maybe not even that. But I highly doubted that there would be anything more there than good friends. We got along well, likely similar to how my dad's friendship with him worked. I liked him as a doctor, as a human being even. As anything more than that, that was nonsense.


	10. Chapter 10-Tired

Chapter Ten-Tired

The rest of the week, Dad ensured that I stayed nearby him the entire time we were at the hospital. He had a case, which I quickly learned, meant a lot less sleep, food, and sanity, and a lot more stress. I ended up falling asleep in his office hair, my head in my hand, my elbow propped on the table.

I didn't remember what I was dreaming of, but I knew I had been dreaming when I heard a voice I knew calling my name.

"Gemma? Gemma?"

"Huh?"

I opened my eyes in a flutter and saw, standing before me, hovering over where I had been sleeping at my dad's desk, James, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I fell asleep," I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. My makeup was already ruined from being applied almost twenty four hours prior. "What time is it?"

"Eight in the morning," he answered. "You didn't go home last night?"

"No." I yawned. "We have a case."

"You didn't have to stay."

"Dad told me I could take the car home and just come back, but I didn't think that was fair for me to just leave while they try and figure it out." I crossed my arms on his desk and rested my chin on them.

"You're no use to anyone when you're sleeping." He took a step towards me. I didn't know if it was because I was so tired, or if my mind really believed him to be somehow very handsome just then, crossing his arms over his chest, wearing a deep grey suit with a green shirt and tie under the jacket.

"No, but I'm useless at home."

"You'll be more useless if you pass out. Come on." He took another step forward and took the edge of the desk in his hands, leaning on it before my heavy eyelids. "I'll take you home, let your dad know."

"You don't have to do that."

"You can't drive like this. Let's go." He reached out again like he had days before, I couldn't think of how many at that point of exhaustion, and put a hand on my back, gently helping to push me up and out of the chair.

"What's the case like?" he asked as we left my dad's office and headed down the hall.

"A woman who's legs don't work all of a sudden, no trauma. She's bleeding out, or was, I don't know now."

"How long have you been sleeping for?"

"Since like five, I think."

"And no one bothered to come find you?"

"Guess not."

"Then you'll be okay at home for a few hours. Take a nap, and a shower."

"Do I smell bad?" I raised my arm and sniffed. I made a face. I didn't smell like roses.

James chuckled as we reached the front lobby. "I can't smell anything. Honestly."

In the parking lot, he led me to a reserved spot with Dr. James Wilson written on a small blue sign and a silver Volvo parked between the white lines.

"Nice car," I said with another yawn as he opened the passenger side door for me.

"I've always liked it." He shut the door after I swung my legs in the car and then walked around to the driver's side and took a seat behind the wheel. The car purred to life with the key in the ignition and we backed out of the parking space.

With my head rested again in my hand, my elbow rested on the leather arm rest against the door. The inside of the car was spotlessly clean, matching James' entire appearance. I wondered if there could be any sort of mess or clutter in his life. Dad would know.

"You know where we live?" I asked as he turned right out of the hospital parking lot.

"I do. Your dad and have been pretty close for a while. I helped him move in after him and your mom spilt up."

"Did you like my mom?" The sunlight out the windows, despite them being fairly well tinted, was making my eyes squint. I rubbed them again.

"I liked her just fine until she left. She and I got along well actually. But what she did…" He shook his head at the stop light.

"I'm tired of her. She didn't want me to come here."

"I'm sure she misses you."

"Nah, she's got Mark now."

"What do you think of him?"

"An idiot."

James laughed.

"I'm sorry," I blurted.

"What? For what?"

"Dad told me not to spend too much time with you. And that's why I never paid for lunch." I was exhausted, getting moody, and letting myself talk without worrying about what was coming out my mouth.

"Oh. I just figured you guys were busy."

"Well, we had a case, but it wasn't too bad. Dad is just…a pain sometimes. He's jealous and think it's weird that I hang out with you." I yawned again.

"You're all he has. He'd be jealous if you started spending time you could be with him with someone else. You spent the entire morning with me the other day, time you could have been with him. He did talk to me."

"He told you that?"

"Yes, he did."

I thought about that. He never said anything like that to me. To me, his concern was for James and his annoyance with us. But Dad wasn't easy to figure out, he had his ways of talking differently to different people.

My eyelids felt increasingly heavy. James was talking, something about how Dad wasn't as tough and cold as he seemed. He cared about me, James knew so.

But the end of the conversation, I never heard. My eyes fluttered shut and stayed that way. I fell asleep in the passenger seat of the Volvo.


	11. Chapter 11-Closet

Chapter 11-Closet

There were birds outside, tweeting and chirping right near my window. I opened my eyes. For a second, I wasn't sure where I was. Then, as my eyes gained focus, I realized I was in my room, fully clothed, lying between my own sheets, half the makeup still on my face, my socks still on my feet, my bra digging into my ribs. I sat up and yawned. Then I rubbed my eyes.

The clock on the bedside table said that it was just a bit after one.

I knew I had been at the hospital. There was a case and I had stayed up almost all night with my dad's team trying to figure it out. Then James had come along, woke me up from where I had dozed off behind my dad's desk, and then he had driven me home…

And I fell asleep in his car. That was the last thing I knew. So James must have driven me here-he had to have a key- and then carried me up to my room and placed me between the sheets.

My shoes were off, left at the side of my bed, united and placed right next to each other. I wouldn't have untied them. I would have taken them off at the front door, and taken off my bra.

I got out of bed and showered. The warm water felt better than anything could have right then. After that, I skipped doing my hair and makeup and made myself pancakes. I was sitting at the table eating them when I heard the front door open and Dad holler, "Gemma?"

"In the kitchen!"

His frame limped through the doorway. "You came home."

"No, I'm actually still at the hospital."

Dad rolled his eyes. "Wilson told me he drove you home, said you were too tired to drive yourself. How old are you again? Four?"

"He offered. I was exhausted, I didn't care."

"Neither do I."

"Really?" I tilted my head to the side. "Thought I was supposed to stay away from the evil Dr. Wilson."

"He drove you home. Big deal." Dad leaned his came against the island and limped over to the fridge.

"I am so confused. A few days ago you lost your shit telling me not to go near him, now you don't care."

"Wilson thinks I don't want to share you. I'd just as soon give you to him if that meant I don't have to share my food."

"So you're going back on what you said so that we don't think you're a softy?" I stood up and met Dad at the fridge. I grabbed a small stack of pancakes from the counter and handed Dad the plate. "Made you some extra."

Dad took the plate from me and limped to the table, where he started eating. I knew what he was doing. Trying to make it seem like now his worries were gone, when they weren't, and act like a child. Dad didn't want me around James for several reasons, he was worried we'd get along, something that could be awkward for him, human relations always were, but not just that, James and I were all Dad had. Then, James was right, he didn't want to share, to share either of us with each other.

"Because he's immature," I told James the next day over the lunch I insisted on buying. "And he likes to play games."

"Just didn't think he would do that with you." James looked up from his food and gave me a soft smile.

"I'm not exempt. He treats me better than he treats other people, that doesn't mean he treats me like a child."

The smile turned to a snicker. "He is very fond of you, you know. He keeps that picture in his wallet and behind it is every other graduation picture you've ever had."

"He's always been better than my mom, not that that's saying much."

"Gemma."

I looked up. James did as well. Cameron was standing beside the table. Her rich brunette hair was pulled back with two clips behind her temples.

"Your dad is looking for you."

"Really?"

"Well," she sighed and gave her eyes a small roll, "he sent me to find you. Wants you to bring Wilson-" she looked to him, "because he think he found a new case that might be cancer, but it's weird and he wants you guys to come check the patient."

"Alright." James stood and starting parking up his lunch. I copied him. I was just putting the lid on my pasta when I heard, "Aw, crap." I looked up and saw James' lab coat dirtied with dark, malt vinegar salad dressing on the lapel. "You guys head up there," he said, gesturing to the stairwell across the room. "I'll get a clean coat and meet you. Can't really meet patients looking like a slob."

"Dad does it," I interjected.

He chuckled. "And very well, I might add. I'll just be a second." He took bottled water and poured some on a napkin before dabbing at his shirt.

"Come on." Cameron led me away, towards the stairs, where I dumped my garbage from lunch. "You've been spending a lot of time with Wilson," she said, starting up the steps to the main hall.

"W-what?" I blurted.

"You and Wilson. You two spend a lot of time together."

"Not really. I've had lunch with him twice, followed him around one morning, that's not really a lot."

"And he drove you home yesterday."

I stopped walking and turned to her. "What are you saying?" I crossed my arms.

"Nothing, just making conversation." The way she looked at me, almost fish-like, was quite bothersome.

"You're trying to come on to me, all nice, have some girl talk, to get some sort of juicy office gossip?"

"Wow." Her eyes widened. "You really are just like your dad sometimes." She gave me a wan smile.

"Then you and I should get along just fine."

"Huh?"

"I'm not dense. Dad told me before some girl who worked for him wouldn't stop trying to go out with him. Process of elimination…" I smirked. "Next time, maybe clean your own closet before you going digging around mine." I started back up the steps and into the main hall, leaving Dr. Cameron standing behind me with an exasperated look on her face.


	12. Chapter 12-Mom

_Hello everyone! Thanks again for reading and all the great reviews. I love reading what you guys think of each chapter! Please continue to review (good and bad is fine with me!) and I hope you continue to enjoy my writing. I'm trying to update more often now that I don't have school as much, since I'm writing a lot quicker than I was with school. I'm hoping you all continue to enjoy, especially as things start to pick up ;) _

_A few things, there's a bit of a discrepancy with the ages of the characters. Firstly, Gemma would have been born when House was very young for her to be as old as she is in the story. This isn't a huge deal, we can just assume House was young when she was born. Also, the age gap between Wilson and Gemma, this being between season one and two, would only be about elven to twelve years apart. Which is still quite a gap, but not as bad as I thought before looking into Wilson's age. _

_Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Any other questions or concerns, please let me know!_

Chapter Twelve-Mom

James met me in the lobby, where Dad was leaning on the reception desk near the clinic. He had one of the suckers that they gave out to little kids between his fingers.

"I need you two to do a biopsy," Dad said. He then popped the sucker in his mouth. "Take out a chunk of her liver," he mumbled around the candy.

"Alright." James took the file my dad handed him and started flipping through the file. "Looks like maybe-"

"Gemma Elizabeth House!"

I looked up. So did Dad and James, and when they saw who had called out, they appeared as shocked as I was. James' eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open slightly, and Dad copied him and muttered, "What is she doing here?"

Rushing towards us, nearly running, with her dark hair tucked behind her ears, her pointed face upturned to make her appear more witch-like than ever, was the woman I was trying to get away from, to escape. Her and her stupid new husband, stupid boring, meaningless life. She was angry, completely derailed by the fact that I dared to defy her. I couldn't figure out why that was surprising to her anymore.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" I demanded.

"What am I doing here?" Her eyes were narrowed on me. "What do you think you're doing here?" She hunched forward, her finger out, jabbing at me, looking like a crow. "You just left without my permission, lied to me, told me-"

"She's fine, Stacy." Dad stepped forward, pushing past me to stand between me and my mom. He stood straight, not leaning on his cane as much as usual. "Nice to see you as always."

"Oh shut up, Greg. Like you had nothing to do with this." Mom's hands went right to her hips. "I can't believe you didn't call me."

Dad raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Okay, maybe not, but you honestly didn't think that I would be furious?"

I sighed. "I'm an adult, Mom."

"Then start acting like one. I don't see how running away-"

"Stacy," James stepped forward, next to Dad, his shoulders were slightly dropped, submissive, comforting, "Gemma wasn't running away. She's coming here for her education and career, not to just defy you."

"Oh how would you know?" Mom spat. "You wouldn't go against Greg if it killed you."

"What's going on out here?" Dr. Cuddy appeared from behind the doors of her office and stood to the side of where my parents, and James, were still staring each other down. Her eyes fell on my mom. "Stacy? What are you doing here?"

"Did you know about this?" Mom demanded, now turning on Cuddy, who, by her tone, it appeared she knew.

"I knew Gemma was here with her father, yes. You…didn't?"

"She up and ran away, Lisa. I had no idea where she was going. She'd talked about studying under Greg, but didn't tell me she was going to live with him."

"Well, this isn't really up to me. I did approve her as a med student here, but this is a family matter."

"You're right." Mom turned and looked at Dad, right in the eye. "Me, Mark, and Gemma are a family, and I work hard for that."

I laughed. A loud, hardy laugh that was not at all comical. It was cold, menacing and crackled. I stepped around Dad and James, standing before me like guards. "Are you kidding me? We're not a family. You, me, and that loser? That's not a family." I felt tears start at the back of my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but they just stayed in my bottom lashes.

"Gemma." Dad reached out and tried to take my arm, but I pulled it away.

"You left and you took me with you. I'm not a kid anymore. I wasn't even then and yet I made the mistake of staying when I should have left with Dad. You left him because he was crippled, because you didn't like it. I'm not so-"

"Gemma, that's enough." Dad grabbed my arm, tightly. "Stacy, you can't tell her where to live, who to live with. I didn't ask her to come, I just opened my door for her and I don't plan on closing it. Gemma can stay here and I'll let her for as long as she wants, but what I will not do is let you tell her what she should and shouldn't do. You should know better than to do that anyways."

Mom's eyes were cold, narrowed, damp. Fat tears were rolling down my cheeks. Cuddy was standing there with an opened mouth look on her face. James' mouth was in a fine line, his eyes downcast.

"House!" Everyone turned and looked over their shoulders. Standing at the elevator was Dr. Cameron, her face tight. "S-sorry, but the patient's in cardiac arrest. We'll need to operate…"

"Alright." Dad turned and started towards Cameron, but then turned back, looked from me to my mom and chuckled. "She's your daughter," he said. And turned and followed Cameron, who looked completely confused, into the elevator and headed up to our patient, who prognosis likely was not good.


	13. Chapter 13-Correct

Chapter Thirteen-Correct

Cuddy took my mom and together they went into her office, with Cuddy's arm around my mother's hunched shoulders.

James took me and together we went up to his office. He shut the door behind us and rubbed the bridge of his nose. I stood in the middle of the room with my arms crossed over the front of my lab coat.

"Are you okay?" James asked, blinking at me, letting his hand fall to his side.

"Fine. Just…pissed off." I groaned and slapped a hand to my forehead. "Like if she thinks she can just come in here and start screaming at me, then…then…urgh. She just makes me so angry sometimes! I don't understand how she can just leave and then still try and tell me what to do. She's the one that left; I'm only doing what she did years ago, only now I'm leaving her, not Dad!" My voice was getting louder. I was yelling now. "I am so sick of her judging me and trying to control me, when she's the one who broke up our family and forced me," I jabbed a finger at my chest, seething, " to live with her instead of letting me go with Dad when she kicked him out because he wouldn't chop off his damn leg!" Tears were spilling out of my eyes again. I whipped them away with the back of hand, disgruntled with myself for letting tears happen.

"Gemma." James had moved from where he stood near the door to right before me. He laid both hands on my shoulders and tilted his head to one side, his face pensive. His hands were heavy and brought my shoulders from up around my ears to back where they belonged. "No one blames you for being upset. At least I don't. Parents get divorced all the time-"

"Yeah, and I'm being a little bitch about it."

"Let me finish. No one looks at the kids when a marriage gets torn up, but what happened in your family wasn't just a ruined married. Your dad went through hell. But he's…I won't say happy, but since you've been here, he hasn't been taking as many pills, he hasn't been as snarky and miserable. I just think you made the right choice, no matter what your mom says." He gave me a small smile.

"Did you ever like my mom?" I asked.

He chuckled, his hands still weighty on my shoulders. "At a time, we were friends. But after what she did to your dad, I can't say I do anymore."

"You disagree with what she did?"

"Yeah, I do."

I nodded.

James then seemed to realize that he was still holding my shoulders and took his hands off. "Your dad wasn't the same after she left. He's my best friend. If we're talking about taking sides, the choice is obvious."

"I just want her to leave me alone."

"Cuddy will talk to her. As much as your dad and Cuddy can't be civil to one another, she'll do the best she can with the situation, which is pretty good."

"Good." I gave him a wan smile. Before I could say anything else, the phone on his desk rang. James stepped over to it and picked up the phone.

"Dr. Wilson," he said into the mouthpiece. "Yeah, she's with me." He looked over at me, smiled and mouthed 'Cuddy'. "Fine…no…I'll tell her but I doubt she's-" He sighed into the phone. "I know, but so was Stacy. Can you really blame her?" His eyes widened. "No! I'm not, I just see her side better than I do Stacy's, and you know-….yeah. I'll tell her but I doubt she's going come down there. You do remember who her father is, right?...Yeah…Okay…Um hmm, bye." He hung up the phone and looked up me with tired eyes. "Cuddy's not happy about the whole…" he waved his hand in the air, "show that went down in the lobby and your mom is being very relentless about your living situation. She wants to talk to you."

"Well I'm not going." I crossed my arms and started to chew my lower lip. "You don't think I should go, do you?"

"I think it's up to you. But," he stepped towards me, "we've known each other for what, a few days?"

I uncrossed one arm and rested my chin in my palm. "I've been here a week."

"So a week, and I feel like, you can argue it's because of House-your dad, but I think I know you pretty well and I don't know that seeing your mom would really help anything."

"It wouldn't. I'm too angry with her."

James nodded.

"I should go check on the patient and all that." I gestured to the door. "Pretty crappy doctor if I just hide here the entire time."

He smiled. "You can hide here whenever you want."

I opened my mouth to say something and then closed it. James' big brown eyes were watching me. He blinked at me.

"I should go," I said slowly.

"Sure, of course." He seemed to shake himself out of whatever small trance he was in, for whatever reason.

I gripped the handle of the door, turned it under my fingers and pulled the door open. But before I slipped through, I said, "I don't know if your wife would appreciate that offer you just made me, Jimmy."

Then before he could answer, wide eyed and opened mouth, I slipped through the door and into the hall. I hurried down the hall and then, when I rounded the corner, where James couldn't see me, and leaned my back against the wall and sighed.

The theory Dad had, about Wilson and me, I had my own suspicions that went along quite well with what Dad was worried about.


	14. Chapter 14-Truth

Chapter Fourteen-Truth

"Are you even listening to me?"

"What? Sorry."

"I said I'm worried that I might have something. I'm coughing, my snot is green, and my teeth hurt. I think it's a sinus infection."

"Okay. I can give you something that should help." I grabbed my Dad's prescription pad and took a pen from my lab coat pocket. I wrote down medication for a sinus infection.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dad limped off his chair and snatched the pad from my hands. "Patient says he has a sinus infection and so you write them something for it? If they know what they have, then why are we even here?" He scribbled something down after ripping off the script I wrote. "Here. Go get something for your cold and then go to the dentist."

The guy sitting on the table looked from me to my dad and then got down and left the room.

I sighed and stood up from where I was sitting on the small round stool.

Dad put his cane between me and the door. "Sit back down."

"Why?"

"Because you're acting like a moronic idiot, that's why."

I sat down with a huff and crossed my arms. "What?"

"I should be asking you that." Dad leaned against the counter. "You went with Wilson on Tuesday. And you haven't seen him since. I thought you two were _besties_."

"He's been busy, so have we."

"We're in the clinic."

"Yeah…"

Dad's voice changed. He was serious. "What is going on?"

"Nothing."

"Fine, I'll go ask him." He detached himself from the counter.

"Okay." I held out my hands. "Wilson said something about me hanging out in his office an-"

"What did he say?"

I sighed. "He said I could go there whenever I wanted to."

"And that's horrible because?"

I yelled, "He's married! You're the one that basically put the flashing red sign up over his head that says," I punctuated the air with my hand, as I said, "'Dangerous, panty-dropping married man! Beware!" I crossed my arms. "I'm doing what you asked. I'm staying away from him. Just like you asked."

"And you're miserable. You've become a mindless bitch and not doing your job."

"That's so nice of you. Thanks."

"I don't care what's going on between you and Wilson, but get your head out of your ass. Or better yet, Wilson's ass. You're pining over a guy who's twenty years older than you and acting like a vegetable. I'm not going to let your career die for some romance that shouldn't ever exist."

I just stared at him. Hard. "You're a real ass."

"So I've heard." He popped a Vicodin.

"Look, I'm choosing to stay away from him because like you said, he's being all," I waved my hands in the air, "James Wilson-y on me and I'm being an idiot and I'm…I'm falling for it."

Dad said nothing. He just looked to the ground and then back up at me. "Then you're doing the right thing." He leaned on his case and then started for the door. "But get a drink or something, because if you don't stop acting like a zombie, I'll let you be one, with your mother." He left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving me alone in the clinic room.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. Dad was a jerk, but he was right. His parenting skills may not be the most warm and cuddly, but damn they were affective, they always were, always had been.

He'd been the dad who, when all the other dads were telling their daughters good luck at the pony club horse show, was telling me to suck up my nerves, stop looking like a wuss and kick some other ten-year-old ass or I'd look like a pansy and have to live with the embarrassment while the other kids showed off their ribbons and I got mocked for not wanting to jump the pony over the water jump. When I had to get my tonsils out, it was 'do it, or have a sore throat for the rest of your life'. When I had my first heart break, Mom was all soft and Dad said "go to school or the guy, along with everyone else, will laugh at you. And comb your hair so he'll realize what he missed out on." When I was in trouble, he never laid a hand on me, just told me the way it was going to be and that was it. Oh, you broke Mom's fancy vase on accident? Well yeah, it was a stupid vase, but go out and buy her a new one, a better one with that money you earned from babysitting, either that or glue a thousand pieces together.

He was tough. But he was always right and he made me how I was. I wasn't about to let that get to me, not now.

I left the room and then started through the main lobby. I punched the up arrow for the elevators and waited.

And that was when James Wilson, boy wonder oncologist showed up.

"Gemma," he said brightly. "I was hoping I'd see you, I-"

"Why?" I demanded. "So you can cheat on your wife with me?"

"What?" He widened his eyes and took half a step backwards.

"I'm not stupid, James. I know what's going on. This isn't a joke. I'm not going to be the other woman just because you get bored in your marriage and because I'm just like Dad. Maybe you should be dating him, if that's what you want!"

"Hey, calm down." He put his hands out between us. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said slowly. "If you want to discuss this, we can."

"You think this is some sort of game? Because I can't play around like this, it hurts. Yeah, okay, it's working, whatever the hell sort of thing you do, you're doing it to me and it damn well works. I like you, okay? I am attracted to you. I've been all messed up the last few days, debating with myself whether or not I should ignore you completely and hope this all goes away, or run down to your office, and," I sighed, deflating, "tell you how I feel and hope that you feel like that too." I looked down at the floor, my hands clasped in front of me, my shoulders bent forward.

"Well Gemma," James said softly. "I can answer that right now."

I looked up at him. Just as I did, he closed the distance between us in two steps, took hold of my face in both hands, and leaned in, pressing his lips against mine.


	15. Chapter 15-Thoughts

Chapter Fifteen-Thoughts

Kissing a married man wasn't on my bucket list. Actually, I could safely say it probably was on anyone's bucket list, per say, but, holy shit, it felt good.

Although I don't think it was the married man part, I think it was all Dr. James Wilson.

Like almost everything else about him, his lips were soft. He kept them closed at first, pressed there, but then started moving his lips against mine, taking my bottom lip between both of his, pulling away just enough and then coming back. The insides of his lips were damp and softer than ever.

The feeling of tightness, weakness, and that tinge, all at once, went down my spine, to the bottom of my feet. It was like my brain had gone numb and my body was the only thing that was actually doing anything, and what it was doing was kissing James back.

It was wrong, it was immoral, he was married, I was too young, he was my dad's best friend, I was a student and he a doctor…there were a million reasons why I shouldn't be standing here, right in front of the elevators, where anyone could see.

My hands were still clasped in front of me. I unclasped them and put them against James' chest and pushed at him.

He pulled away right then. Took his hands from my face and left them hovering there. His lips were slightly fuller, deeper in color now, his pupils larger and his eyes glued on me.

"G-Gemma," he began.

Turning away from him, I punched the elevator button. The doors had come down and opened once and then closed while I wasn't paying attention. I punched again, feverishly. The doors opened.

"Come on." I grabbed the sleeve of James' lab coat and pulled him in the elevators with me. Then I pushed the button for the doors to close. When they did, we started moving. I turned to James. "What were you thinking?" I shouted at him. "You're married. _Married_!"

He looked up from the floor and met my eyes. "Gemma, I didn't mean for that-"

"You didn't mean to make out with him in the fricken lobby of the hospital?" I slapped a hand against my thigh.

He sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Not really, no. I didn't plan for that. It just happened." He turned and looked at me, facing me. "I am sorry. That's not how I wanted things to happen."

The elevator opened. I felt rooted to the floor, but I followed James out.

"What do you mean 'how you wanted things to happen'?" I asked, hurrying after him as he started down the hall, walking very quickly. I wasn't used to running after anyone.

He didn't answer, he just kept walking fast, towards his office.

I waited until he unlocked his door and stormed inside. He threw his keys onto his desk and ran his hands through his hair with his back to me. I closed the door quietly behind myself and leaned against it. When James turned to face me, his hair was standing up in odd places, making him appear more boyish than ever, very innocent and sweet, but the look on his face said otherwise. The juxtaposition there was thick.

"My marriage is…horrible. At best. My wife and I never spend any time together, we never talk, never show affection, never have sex, never even sleep in the same bed."

I swallowed.

He went on, "At this point, it's not if, it's when. When are we just going to say forget it? Divvy up the house and my bank accounts and it's done." He sighed, and then more softly said, "I didn't want to put you through all that. I'm sorry, Gemma, really I am. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, no, it's fine."

"It's not fine. You don't deserve to be the other woman while I go home to Mrs. Wilson all the time, or for the time being, I guess."

"You're sure you're going to leave her?"

"I've done this twice before, I'm pretty much an expert."

I sighed and rubbed my temples. "I…This is a lot to take in right now." My hands felt sweaty. "So you…you planned on divorcing your wife and then making out with me?"

He smiled wanly, but his eyes shone. "Well, in simple terms, yes."

"Well, I can't say I would have objected to that."

"But are you objecting now?"

"I…don't know. This is all so…confusing."

"Again, I am so sorry. I didn't mean for it to go like this."

"So now what?"

James shrugged. "I will go through with my divorce, I can say for sure."

"We can't do this, not right now." I crossed my arms. There was a small lump forming in my throat. "You're married, I'm too young, I'm a student. Doctors aren't supposed to have relationships with the interns, are they?"

"It would be frowned upon, but nothing to jeopardize anyone's license. And we all know your dad has gotten away with that enough times, it's not like you have much to worry about. Being Gregory House's daughter means you can very likely have advantages-"

"So you're saying that because I'm his daughter, I can just do whatever I want? I'll just sit in his shadow and let that create my success?"

"No, I'm saying you'll get the automatic respect that not many others can have."

"And so I should use that to escape judgement when you cheat on your wife with me?"

"No, no. That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying? Because I'm lost. You tell me this was a mistake and you'll leave your wife so you can be with me, but then it's okay if we don't wait until the divorce is finalized because I'm House's daughter so I can do whatever I want and have no consequences!"

James sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands, then pulled down and looked up at me. "You're…" he smiled, not feebly, not unhappily, a true, sweet, blissful smile. "You're unlike anyone I've ever met before in my life."

"Apparently I'm just like my dad," I grumbled.

"Not really, no. The resemblance is there, but you're not exactly like him." He rested his chin on his hands rested on his knees, and looked at the carpet under my feet. "Look, Gemma, if you're not wanting anything to do with me right now, I understand. And I don't blame you. We can do whatever you want. If you want to still be friends, to have lunch and work together, I have no problem with that. I don't consider that cheating, at least not with the way things are with my wife now. But if you want nothing to with me, then I won't press the issue." He sighed and looked up at me. "But either way, even if you never want anything to do with me, before or after I leave my wife, I do have feelings for you. As cliché as it sounds, I haven't felt this way about anyone before in my life. I really enjoy spending time with you."

I could feel a tension headache starting behind my eyes. I rubbed at my eyebrows. "It's not that I'm not attracted to you," I said, refusing to look James in the eye. "I am. But the whole…complication of this. I just…I don't know."

"I know, it's a lot to think about."

"I…" I swallowed. "I need some time."

"Sure, of course."

I nodded.

"Take all the time you need," James said solemnly.

"Thanks," I replied quietly. Then I turned around, opened the door and left his office without looking back.


	16. Chapter 16-Gemma and Cuddy

Chapter Sixteen-Gemma and Cuddy

I got through the rest of that day acting as if nothing was wrong. As if I wasn't torn between doing what was right, what I should do, and what I wanted to do.

Truthfully, I did have feelings for James. Whether or not it was just a simple attraction or something more like lasting affection or even love, was a tricky question. It could be something simple, just a small crush that would go away in a month, and in that case, this was all for nothing. But if it could, and was something more, then I wanted to do things right. But what was right?

Throwing myself into working helped. I focused on it completely.

"Dad, you can't MRI the guy if he could have magnetic metal plates in his leg!" I rushed alongside the gurney as Chase pushed it down the hall.

"We need to check his brain," he said.

"And if he doesn't have metal in him, he's fine." Dad shuffled behind me.

"You don't know that he doesn't."

"Go tell Cuddy your problems before you turn into her." My dad popped a pill into his mouth.

I rolled my eyes and followed them into the MRI room, where Foreman joined us. He and Chase lifted the guy in a coma onto the MRI machine. Dad and I sat behind the glass and then Chase and Foreman joined us. Then we started up the machine.

And broke it. There was a loud rumble on the other side of the glass, where the machine sat, followed by a bang, then the lights flickered and went out.

And we ended up in Cuddy's office.

"You broke the MRI machine!" she shouted at Dad, Foreman, Chase, I. "You just cost this hospital more money that we don't have! And backed up the MRI schedule for patients who need it." She stood behind her desk and crossed her arms.

Dad shrugged. "We didn't know about the metal in the guy, how would we?"

"Maybe don't MRI the guy without a history? How about that?"

"Hmm, well his life was in danger, couldn't wait for him to wake up to ask him."

"Go do your job," she said, waving her hand towards the door. I have things to take care of. Yelling at you guys is almost pointless. It's like yelling at deaf people. You know I'm angry but you can't understand what I'm saying."

Chase appeared to fighting back a smile, Foreman had his completely monotone look on his face, and Dad was grinning. They turned to leave and I followed, but not after Dad made a comment about Cuddy's chest.

"Gemma," Cuddy called as I was about to walk out the door behind my dad. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Yeah," I said, turning, perplexed, "sure."

The guys kept walking, likely not even noticing I wasn't with them.

Cuddy walked out from around her desk and smoothed the front of her skirt. She took a breath and then said, "I heard some…well I don't know what to call it because I'm not sure it's true."

Great. I felt my stomach fall into my butt. I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "What did you hear?"

"Well, I overheard two clinic nurses talking, saying how they saw something happen between you and Dr. Wilson. I wanted to ask you before I decide what to believe and what, if any action should be taken. And I did ask them not to repeat what they were saying just then, for your sake, and Dr. Wilson's."

I sighed and bit down on my lower lip. "What exactly did they say?"

"That you and Dr. Wilson were engaging in behaviour-oh whatever," she rolled her eyes and went on, "they said you two were making out."

I kicked at a small scuff in the ornate carpet on the floor of the office. "Technically, he kissed me."

"Listen, Dr. House," Cuddy continued.

I looked up at her calling me Dr. House. Dr. House was my dad.

"Gemma," she amended, "as your boss and dean of this hospital, I can't really do anything about personal relations between doctors and students. Unless Dr. Wilson is actually making any of your work or you're working with him officially, there's nothing that can be done expect ask you to keep your physical relations private, as it's not really the most reputable. Your image and reputation could be tainted, but that's nothing, not with your dad being House. People will either be in line to hire you or rip up your resume, kissing a married man won't harm you that way, not to any extent that matters. You could work in almost any hospital in the country. But as another woman, I have to say: what the hell are you thinking?"

I laughed, because if I didn't, I didn't know what else I would do, maybe cry. Cuddy joined me.

"I know," I said, still wearing a smile. "I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not an idiot." She stepped closer to me, waving her hands as she spoke. "Wilson is…he's a great guy, really. Very kind, caring, such a sweetheart, but you're young, gorgeous, smart, talented, you can have any guy you wanted. Have you seen the way half the guys look at you? You could have Chase wrapped around your little finger if you played your cards right."

"What? No, Chase-"

"Don't be naïve. I've had a ton of male doctors and nurses ask me who you are. Chase is one of…a hundred! With all that, do you really want to get involved with a married man?"

"I don't. I don't want to do anything as long as James is married. I know that."

Cuddy tilted her head to the side but then went on. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, and it's really none of my business. I just know your dad's useless in this and since you just moved here and not getting along with your mom, I thought I'd try."

"I appreciate it." I did, at the same time I didn't think it was her business, but I too confused, too deflated about the entire thing, with my heart torn up and my brain exhausted, to really mind her meddling. "He told me his marriage is basically over, but how do I know? And that still doesn't change what's going on now."

"I'm sure it's tough. And I'm here if you want to talk. I will say, Dr. Wilson is great, but he's very…I don't know how to say it, but he cares almost too much, for a lot of people. This is something I'm not surprised to see, as weird as it is. One thing I am going to have to enforce, don't make out again where a bunch of people can gawk, looks bad, and as your boss, I don't want to see that again."

"Of course. It won't happen again, maybe not even in private."

Cuddy smiled. "You should go before your father storms down here and demands you back. Just remember, I'm here for you, Gemma."

"Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"You've been doing great so far, keep it up."

"Thanks. I'll try."

I headed out of her office then, but I wasn't sure if I was any more or less confused than before.


	17. Chapter 17-Wont Back Down

Chapter Seventeen-Won't Back Down

Again, I avoided James. It was horrible. I would catch myself thinking about him during the day and dreaming about him at night. I would avoid his office and the entire oncology ward like the plague and whenever anyone even breathed so much as the word 'cancer', I would feel uneasy in my stomach and find something else to do, far away from where James could be.

I knew that Dad knew that something was up, he'd make occasional jokes about me being a wuss or acting finicky, but thank God, he didn't seem, or at least he wasn't letting on, that he knew about what happened in the lobby.

My decision changed more often than the weather. One day I was ready to march down and tell James I cared and I would wait for the divorce and then we could at least try dating, and then the next I hated him and hoped I never would see him.

Finally, I had what seemed to be the best of the options I had laid out before me, and really, it was the only choice that made actual sense.

I couldn't keep avoiding him like I was, not with him being my dad's best friend and often colleague to the entire team. I had put off what I needed to do for long enough. So feeling my gut in a knot, I marched down to the oncology ward, down to James' office and before I could change my mind (I had been this far before and not knocked on the door) I raised my fist and pounded it against the door with the plate saying 'Doctor James Wilson'.

There was no answer. Nothing. I sighed. All this fricken courage for nothing. Well, I would just keep avoiding him. Fine.

I started back down the hall. I didn't get far.

James rounded the corner, looking dapper as ever. My life, officially, sucked.

His hair fell over his forehead in a small wave, almost Superman-esc. He wore that dark brown suit with the blue shirt underneath.

"Gemma?" He brought his eyes up and locked them on mine.

My plan, what I knew was right and wanted to say, was falling out the window, and I was desperately trying to lean out the damn window and catch the stupid thing.

"H-hi," I managed in a breath like someone hyperventilating. I backed up as he walked forward, back far enough to hit my butt against his office door.

"Did you need something from me?" he asked, pulling his keys from the pocket of his trousers.

"I do…need to talk to you, yeah."

"Okay, well…" He gestured to the door.

"Oh." I stepped out of the way and to the side, as much as I could in the small hall space, and he unlocked the door, standing very close to me. I could smell clean laundry and some sort of clean collogue.

James opened the door and then let me walk in first, like always. I went in his office, picking at my cuticles, as he followed and tossed his keys and briefcase on his desk.

"So," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What do you need?"

"To talk to you."

"I got that."

"Right. It's about what's going on, the whole thing."

"Between you and me?" he supplied.

"Yes." Then I asked, "Is everything okay? You seem, well not really yourself today."

He sighed and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it into one of the chairs. "My wife," he explained, "didn't come home last night. I have no idea where she was, who she was with or what she was doing. She still wasn't home this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." I didn't know that I was, but what could I say?

"No, you're not." He smirked. "I can tell."

"I was going to say how I think you and I should remain colleagues and nothing more until you and your wife aren't married anymore."

He took a few steps forward, towards me. "But if she actually left last night-"

"Then what the hell?" I closed the distance between us this time and _I_ kissed _him_.

I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fists, holding onto him like a drunk held a railing, for support and because I needed to. My head felt like a giant balloon or bubble, fuzzy and almost drunk, but not on alcohol.

The tension had always been there, and avoiding James didn't ease it at all, only made it worse.

He kissed me back, hard. A fist went into my hair, an arm around my lower back with his fingers splayed just above my hips, against my spine. He backed me up, slowly, until my thighs were against his desk and then, making me giggle against his lips, he picked me up, one hand around my back, the other around my thighs, and placed me on top of his desk, pushing over a pencil holder and causing a paper weight to fall to the floor.

I wrapped my arms around him as he leaned forward against me, standing between my knees. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him as close to me as I could, ignoring the huge thought in my mind, in large red letters, saying 'HE'S MARRIED!'.

Or at least I did, until there was the sound of someone turning the doorknob.

"I didn't lock the door!" James gasped, pulling his face away from mine, his eyes wide.

I pushed at his chest. "Way to go, Jimmy!"

He back peddled and I leapt off the desk just as the door opened.

And my dad walked through.


	18. Chapter 18-No More

_Hi everyone, I am glad you guys are enjoying the story and all the drama. Just for fun and because I'm curious, how many of you actually want Wilson and Gemma to end up together? From the reviews, it seems like a lot of people are completely against the relationship (which makes sense), so I'm just curious you're thoughts as to if you ever want them to end up together or not. Let me know in the reviews. Thanks! Thanks again for all the support and for enjoying my story!_

Chapter Eighteen-No More

There was a lot of yelling, by everyone. But first there was the calm before the storm.

Dad walked in, slowing his steps and looked from me to James, then tilted his head to the side, looked above my eyebrows at my hair and then down to James' pants and raised his eyebrows at us. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." I smoothed the back my hair where James' hand had messed up the backcombing and made certain parts stand on end.

"No? Nothing like, oh I don't know, Wilson cheating on his wife with _my daughter_?" He was shouting at us now, his face no longer comical, only angry.

"House," James began, holding his hands out as if to calm everyone, "it was this time, that's it. I'm getting a divorce-"

"When? After you, the cheater, make my daughter the other woman? Then what? You two get married and you cheat on her with the next poor damsel in distress that comes along?"

"We're not going to get married anytime soon," I chimed in.

"No, this whole thing is all just physical then! A cure for boredom."

"No, Dad-" I took a step forward.

"You think anything good could come of this? What has he told you? That you're different? That things are going to be so great between you two? Until he cheats on you like he has everyone else."

"House!" James rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Dad turned to me. "Get out."

"Dad-"

"I said get out!"

I crossed my arms. James nodded to me. So he wanted to talk to Dad too.

With a small sigh, I left the room and left them two alone. After the door clicked shut, the yelling started. Mostly Dad's.

I couldn't make out everything; the hospital did a good job at soundproofing, but from what I heard Dad was furious about how I would be the same as any of James' wives, he'd cheat on me like he did them and then my dad would have to be there and clean up the mess, just like what happened with him and my mom.

Sighing, I blinked back tears and then detached myself from the door and walked down the hall.

I ended up in my Dad's office, where, feeling like totally crap, I knew of only one thing to do. I grabbed Dad's six string fender from the stand it sat on, plugged it into the am, turned the volume down low enough so that it wouldn't be heard outside the office, and started playing.

I started with Yellow Ledbetter. And ended up on Mike Campbell's riff in "Breakdown" when Dad walked through the glass door of his office.

"You've gotten better," he said, nodding at me.

"I've been practising. It's a productive way to drive mom insane." I strummed a cord and then held the strings to silent the room. "So you talked to James." I stood and placed the guitar back on its stand. "And no you're here to yell at me." I straightened up and looked right at Dad.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"No."

"Knock it off, Gemma. I'm not going to yell."

"But you're angry."

"And you're an adult. Make your own mistakes."

"You're brushing this off. I know you're pissed."

Dad hit the ground with his cane. "Of course I am! You and Wilson getting together is probably the worst thing that could happen. It can't end well, I know it won't. And in the meantime, you're doing something unethical."

"Since when do you care about being unethical?"

"It doesn't matter what I do, but I'm not going to let you make questionable choices. You are an adult, but no matter how old you get, you're my daughter."

"Well, you won't have to worry about it. I'm not going to have anything to do with Wilson. I was thinking maybe I'd wait until he went through with his divorce or something, I don't even know, but I'm sure now, I won't be anything more than someone who works in the hospital with him. That's it." I said it, and I meant it.

Dad nodded. "I think that's best. Eventually you'll get a job somewhere, maybe here, but I doubt it, and then it won't be an issue."

"Yeah," I said, "you're right."

There would be no more James Wilson in my life. I wouldn't let myself change my mind any more.


End file.
